Young Lions
by QueenOfSwordsAndDaggers
Summary: Insanity is something that we all are capable of possesing. Sinnia is one who lives and breathes insanity. Thrown into the areana she must fight, but with her mind already gone what else could she have to lose? Thresh/OC
1. Go

**Thresh's POV**

The heat in the square was blistering; the cloudless sky and blazing sun coupled with the hundreds of tightly packed bodies turned the square into an oven. The crowd of eighteen year olds around me jostled for position, craning their necks to see the stage that had been set up outside the Justice building, upon which stood the mayor and the previous Victors. Everyone's soft murmurs to each other created an almost deafening layer of sound over the square, each conversation blurring with the others. However, the mood was blacker than the noise suggested- after all, it was a reaping. At least one person in the crowd would be dead before the month was out.

The escort, a garishly dressed woman with her hair piled into a tower atop her head who I recalled to be named Perisa, coughed once and the whole square's attention focused on her. The microphone echoed the sound throughout the square and when she spoke her piercing voice reverberated through my head. I let my mind drift as she spoke, letting the words drift past me and float away on the breeze.

I only jolted back to reality when I heard the distinctive ring of nails against glass- the first name was being pulled. I held my breath in a silent prayer; please not Elsa. Please. My sister was all I had left of my family, apart from my grandmother who was nearly senile. Her mind seemed gone most of the time but sometimes she snapped back to reality and I caught a glimpse of the woman who had raised two children alone… but that only lasted minutes. Most of the time she was simply empty, a husk of a woman.

The squeal of feedback from the microphone nearly masked the Perisa's words but through the noise I could just make out a name.

"Sinnia Carell!"

A girl a few rows in front of me dropped to the ground, white as a sheet. Gasps ran through the crowd and a few sighs too- a tribute who fainted at the Reaping was nearly always a bloodbath.

Two peacekeepers began to push their way through the crowd to revive the unconscious tribute and bring her up to the stage but they halted when a voice called from across the Square.

"I'm Sinnia."

I turned to see the source of the noise along with most of the crowd and probably most of the Capitol viewers, and saw a girl, probably my age or a little younger, stood in a gap in the crowd of teenagers, who had parted like the red sea when she spoke.

She was tall with a complexion akin to that of Seeder, the only female Victor from 11, and skinny to the point of ugliness. Her face wasn't much to look at: sharp, catlike features and mud brown eyes but what cemented it in my memory was the expression she wore. It was somewhere between a snarl and a smirk- the look of lioness as its prey struggled underneath its paw. It was a look that meant danger.

The escort beamed, showing teeth so white they were blinding as she beckoned Sinnia towards the stage.

"This way, Darling!"

Sinnia sauntered up to the stage amidst the murmurs and whispers of the crowd. The escort was still smiling widely as she climbed the steps and took her place in front of the previous Victors. She still wore the curious expression she'd had when her name was called, but that didn't stop the escort grabbing her hand and shaking it. Sinnia didn't return the handshake. Instead, she curled her lip in a look of disgust and pulled her and out of the escorts. The escorts face fell and she pulled away and strode over to the second glass bowl containing the boys names.

I tensed, my hands clenching into fists as she pulled the slip of paper out the bowl and opened it slowly. I sent up my prayers again- with the tesserae and my age, I had 28 entries in there.

The escort held the paper up to the sunlight to read it, studying it with what seemed like deliberate slowness, as though she was trying to draw it out. Finally, she smiled and lent towards the microphone to speak:

"Thresh Oaks."

I managed to pull my face into a mask of indifference before taking a step towards the stage. The short walk seemed agonisingly slow and I could feel the burn of hundreds of gazes upon me as I pushed through the crowd. The escort's smile seemed like a sneer now and her eyes unfriendly.

My heart pounding, I climbed the stairs to the makeshift stage and turned to face the crowd.

The escort grabbed my hand and pumped it vigorously but I didn't shake back. Instead, I gazed out over the square for what might have been my last glance of my home. Hundreds of blank faces stared back up at me, both familiar and unfamiliar, but none of them register through the mist that seemed to cloud my thoughts.

I could vaguely feel a hand on my shoulder- from the glimpse I caught of pink talons it was most likely Perisa's-on my shoulder guiding me towards Sinnia, who looked at me like I was a bug she wished to squash, and shook my hand as loosely as was physically possible, and a smattering of applause as we turned to face the crowds.

The blood rushed through my head and I closed my eyes against a sudden avalanche of fear.

**So that was the first chapter! I want to say thanks to my amazing betas, AndItsGonnaBeTotallyAwesome and .Dauntless. You two are amazing, no joke.**

**I don't really have anything else to say except- Review! Oh, and I hope you liked it.**


	2. No Kind Words

The applause died down slowly and Perisa's grip on my shoulder tightened as she steered me inside the Justice Building, closely followed by Sinnia, the Victors and Mayor Prentiss. The corridors of the Justice Building were freezing, as though they repelled the heat of the day; as my Grandmother used to say: it was as cold as a tomb.

We reached the end of the long corridor, pausing in front of two doors a few metres apart. Perisa lead me into a room filled with most extravagant furnishings I'd ever seen: velvets and silks, maple and ivory. Perisa left, chirping something I couldn't hear, and shut the heavy oak door behind her with a resounding thud, leaving me to my thoughts.

I didn't dare to sit down on the pristine couch so I stayed standing, gazing out the small window at the small part of the market I could see from here. A pleasant sort of numbness settled over me, giving me what might be my last few moments of peace before the Games… or indeed ever.

There was a knock on the door, and I turned to see Elsa and my grandmother stood in the door way, flanked by two peacekeepers. I moved my lips to form the words of a greeting but my voice came out in an inaudible croak.

Elsa took a tentative step inside, taking my grandmothers hand and leading her inside the room too. She gripped Elsa's hand tightly- I could see the blood rush turn pink from across the room. Elsa seemed lost for words, her smile forced, and Elsa was always smiling- perpetually cheerful.

My grandmother's gaze darted round the room, taking in her surroundings. Her senility meant new locations were confusing for her and she could no doubt tell something was wrong; she was still perceptive, even after losing half her mind. She let go of Elsa's hand and hobbled forwards, leaning on the wooden cane she always had with her, and came to a halt right in front of me. Her normally vacant eyes were full of a life I hadn't seen in them for months.

"Thresh." She murmured, her voice the strongest It'd been for years. I nodded, and pulled her frail hand into mine. Her hand was smaller than my palm alone.

"I'm here, Granna." I replied, using my childhood name for her.

"You have to come back." She said- no, commanded. I could see a shadow of the regal woman she'd once been, and that woman commanded. I didn't reply; what would I say? Saying yes would be a lie, and saying no would break her heart. Instead I settled for just a smile. Granna raised her gaze to meet mine, her expression stone hard.

"You have to. No matter what."

"…I'll try." I muttered. Granna sighed and hobbled away again, leaving me with a terrible sense of emptiness. She'd offered no kind words, no reassurances- only an order.

Elsa didn't bother with words. She simply waited until Granna had retreated to the other side of the room and ran over and flung her arms around me, sobbing. I returned the embrace, letting Elsa rest her head on my shoulder despite her being only a few inches shorter than me.

We stood like this for a minute or more, neither of us saying a word. With so little time left to me I didn't want to waste the hours I had on empty promises. Instead I simply etched Elsa's face into my memory, storing it away in the place in my thoughts I reserved for my family.

Finally, Elsa pulled away, her face streaked with tears. The one of the two peacekeepers who'd stood inactive in the doorway for the past three minutes straightened up and strode towards her, putting a hand on her shoulder and steering her out the door. His companion escorted my grandma out, shut the heavy door behind him with a thud that resonated through my head, marking what might be my last moments in the place I'd called home all my life.

**Thanks again to my betas, AndItsGonnaBeTotallyAwesome and .Dauntless. **

**Also thanks to you lovely reviewing people :3**

**I'd hug y'all, but that might scare you.**

**Au revoir,**

**Queen Of Loonland, Cat xx**


	3. Precious Time

After about ten minutes of waiting in solitude, pacing the room, I wandered over to the door and gave it an experimental push. It swung open, revealing the bare stone corridor I'd walked through to get here. To my surprise, it wasn't as empty as I'd expected- a figure slouched against the wall near the other door, wearing the same smirk she'd worn an hour earlier at the Reaping. Sinnia. As she caught sight of me her expression changed into a hostile glare. I didn't indulge her by glaring back- whatever childish games she chose to play would not involve me. I had a far more dangerous game to be playing.

I strode past her and down the long stone corridor, though I could feel the burn of her gaze the whole way. The entire building seemed deserted but for the two of us, my family and even the peacekeepers having disappeared. I walked on, not sure of my destination, just propelled by a strange sort of adrenaline. Now my whole world was gone, the familiar movement calmed my fractured nerves, and I knew as soon as I stopped this small peace would be shattered.

"Darling!" Came a piercing voice, echoing shrilly from a corridor to my left. I held back a sigh and glanced down the corridor, giving Perisa a small nod of acknowledgement. She smiled and waved, teetering towards me on her ridiculously high heels.

"Now, let's get you back to where you should be!" She exclaimed, smiling through her teeth. I could tell she disliked me, and Sinnia was no charmer- she was no doubt annoyed about this year's tributes. We hadn't had a Victor in her time, and it seemed this would not be the year.

I allowed her to steer me back to the meeting room, and I let myself drift into a stupor. I'd decided that was the best way to deal with my situation- let myself forget.

The next hour passed slowly, with the Mayor, the Victors and the various other District 11 officials escorted us to a train, the Capitol sort- the most luxurious thing I'd ever seen. The outside was sleek metal, glinting in the sun, but the interior was more impressive. Wall to wall velvet, a material only seen on the very richest merchant's collar, and silver and glass ware rather than the cheap imitations in the shops. Even Sinnia looked captivated, her snarling smirk replaced with a small smile. That disappeared as soon as she caught Perisa's eye, matching the escort's condescending expression with a glower that would turn a lesser woman to stone.

Perisa being Perisa, however, she merely sent us to our rooms and began fussing over table decorations. My room was as opulent as the rest of the train, but by now the extravagance was almost wearing. Was it necessary to prettify the Games? All the fancy costumes and capitol treats did not mask the fact that this was an execution.

With a resigned attitude, I busied myself trying out all the various buttons and controllers around the room. Discovering room service, I ordered a cup of coffee- a treat I'd had only once, at the Harvest festival. I flicked on the TV, to quell the stifling silence and found myself watching the recap of the Reapings. As the commentators went through the Districts I grew increasingly worried- each and every tribute was a threat. There was a burly boy from District 2 with a glare to match Sinnia's, and a sly looking redhead from 5. The screen flickered faster and faster, through 7 and 8 and onwards, til the seal of Panem flashed up and a voice called 'District 11!'

The TV showed a familiar scene, the square, the stage, Perisa and the dignitaries. I watched, the nerves I'd felt then echoing now, as the escort called Sinnia's name and she made her way up to the stage. From here, I could see the faces in the crowd around me as she took her place- some were disapproving, some scared and the odd smile, either at the chance of victory or the loss of an enemy. Sinnia could be either.

The commentators joked for a minute, though I didn't pay close attention. I heard something about 'fiesty' and a few obscene comments, then the scene shifted and we were back to 11. My heart caught in my throat as Perisa called my name, as though I was there again.

"Thresh Oaks!" came the call, and the camera zoomed into me. The panic was visible in my eyes, but I quickly pulled myself together and strode onto the stage with composure of a man who hadn't just been handed a death sentence. I didn't look weak, I noted with something approaching satisfaction. The screen jolted back to the capitol studios, and the commentators were talking again.

"Not bad!" Exclaimed the first commentator, a blue haired man, and I felt myself untense subconsciously. Not bad.

"Certainly has some muscle….." Replied the other, with a suggestive wink at the camera. I raised an eyebrow, almost amused, and nearly jumped out my skin when my door swung open. Silhouetted in the frame stood Sinnia, her lip curled into a smirk and a hand on her hip.

"Chaff and Seeder want to see us." She told me, though her expression indicated she couldn't care less what the Victors wanted. I yawned, standing up slowly, and flicking the TV off, before following her down the corridor to the dining room we'd seen as we entered the train. Chaff and Seeder sat uncomfortably on the metal chairs, and we took seats opposite them as the odd quiet servants that wandered the train served us dish after dish of rich, exotic foods. The silence was broken only by the sounds of chewing and the occasional approving grunt from Chaff.

I took the time to take in my Mentors, calculating their usefulness objectively. Chaff seemed jolly enough, though I couldn't tear my eyes away from his stump of an arm, and Seeder was quietly intelligent- there was a light in her dark eyes that spoke of something more than shyness. They would have tips for survival, I was sure, and they were certainly better than the wrecks some Districts had- men and women so damaged by their time in the arena that they resorted to morphine or alcohol to numb the pain.

This train of thought brings me to an abrupt conclusion I've been trying to avoid.

Even if I survive, I will never be free of the Capitol's Games.

**Sorry this chapter has been so long in the writing... I'm awful, I know.**

**This is definitely not the best thing I've ever written, so con-crit is more than welcome!**

**I'll be trying to update my other story in the new few weeks, but bare with me- I'm pretty busy at the moment.**

**Thanks for reading!**

**Cat.**


	4. Unattainable

The Mentors eyed us with quiet consideration, and I could feel the weight of their gazes, spotting my flaws- predicting my death. I'd seen Chaff before, in the markets and bars, and I'd thought he was cheerful, jolly, even- his face was stony now. Seeder was less familiar, though her complexion reminded me a little of Sinnia; they had the same olive skin and black hair. The elder victor seemed a lot quieter than Sinnia, who was drumming impatiently on the table, a dangerously bored look in her eye. The four of us, the Victors and the Tributes, sat in silence until Chaff spoke.

"Do you want to win?"

He addressed his question to me, an eyebrow raised, and I merely nodded. Of course I wanted to live. It was human instinct, built in. Chaff's gaze turned to Sinnia now, and he regarded her coolly.

"And you?"

She'd stopped drumming, and was instead tapping the side of her glass in that same rhythm, making the crimson liquid in her glass shake. She seemed to ignore Chaff's question, though she held his gaze.

"I don't like losing."

Seeder glanced up from her breakfast, exchanged a look with Chaff and the two went back to their food, avoiding meeting my eye. Sinnia appeared amused by their reaction, smirking as usual, and took her leave, taking only an apple. The food on her plate was left untouched, and at the sight of it my stomach rumbled. Chaff smiled, his icy demeanour gone with my unfriendly fellow tribute. He nudged a plate of pastries towards me and I helped myself, savouring the rare treat. Sugar was a commodity for field workers, and the last time was my sixth birthday- eleven years ago.

As I ate, Chaff swilled his drink- some kind of alcohol, and strong kind from the smell. I didn't say anything, but Seeder reached out and took the glass from his hand, emptying the contents onto the plush carpet. I tensed, waiting the inevitable outburst, but he just laughed and Seeder cracked a small smile. Chaff sat up a little straighter.

"Have you got any idea how you're going to win these Games?"

I shook my head, and Chaff laughed again.

"Humble. I like that."

I thought I could see Seeder roll her eyes.

"He means, we're here to help with you. With your strategy, with training…"

I attempted a smile, though it appeared more of a grimace. Chaff and Seeder made polite conversation, talking lightly of harvests and how the apple orchards were doing, and I excused myself as politely as I could and made my way back to my room, less comforted than I should have been by the people who should help save my life.

The day passed in unremarkable luxury- I spent it wandering the train, discovering an aquarium room and a small lounge, where I wasted the day in fitful daydreams. This whole situation was dreamlike- I still couldn't believe I was here. The hours began blurring, until I lost track of time completely- before I knew it, the train pulled into the Capitol.

I wandered to the window and gazed out, stunned. I heard the city was big, but nothing like this- the grand buildings sprawled so far I couldn't see the end. It was beautiful, true- but extravagant.

"Ridiculous, isn't it?" drawled a voice at my shoulder.

I almost started, catching myself at the last moment. It was Sinnia, her gold-brown eyes glimmering with contempt. She surveyed the scene with obvious distaste, folding her arms across her chest and leaning against the window frame. I raised an eyebrow, and she returned to expression, the corner of her mouth quirking with amusement.

We stood there silent for some time, until the train began to pull into the train station and into the crowed terminal. Hundreds of terrifying Capitolites swarmed the track, waving at our window. Sinnia rolled her eyes and drew away from the horde, and through the carriage doors. I stared out at the garishly painted faces, with strange fashions and stranger looks- I could see whiskers, and a woman with skin so stretched it was translucent- and turned away, following Sinnia back into the safety of the rest of the train.

The people outside made me sick. They lined up here like we were celebrities, yet they'd cheer at our deaths. Did they really think it was a game? I supposed that to them, the strange district people, with their human faces and real emotions, were playthings, or exhibits in a museum.

I was wrapped up in my bitter tirade as we- Sinnia, the Mentors, Perisa and I, were bundled off the train and into the prep tower. We were whisked through the doors and into the remake centre, were Perisa dragged me down a corridor, muttering something about 'that girl' and 'don't be difficult'.

My prep team were terrifying. Three woman, all identical, and all monstrous, with mouths shaped to look like beaks, emerald green skin and nails as long as their fingers. They looked like something from a nightmare and as they fussed, they talked in high, hissing voices, rambling inanely about how they would make me lovely.

The prep was simple enough- as the Bird sisters said, male tributes had it easy. It took less than half an hour till I was passed onto my Stylist, a tall, thin woman with hair striped black and white who introduced herself as Ehine. She glanced me up and down with beady eyes, and sighed.

"You'll do." She murmured, circling me appraisingly. I stared ahead, stony, as she revealed an outfit that almost blinded me. I had no time to object as she pushed me into a changing cubicle and handed me the outfit.

"Change." She ordered, in a voice that left no room for argument. I did as she said, albeit reluctantly, and found myself in wearing a gold trousers and some sort of garland of gold leaves. I could have laughed- they called this clothes- but I stepped out and let the Bird Sisters fuss and finish the outfit as Ehine criticised from the sidelines.

Finally, when I thought I could take no more, the prep team released me and I was dragged through to another room where Perisa waited. She smiled, an odd look from someone like her, and gestured me through to where the chariot waited. Sinnia was already waiting, dressed like an old goddess in a golden dress and a leaf crown to match mine, obviously uncomfortable in the translucent fabric and heavy make-up. Chaff offered her an arm- the whole one, and she stepped up into the chariot, smoothing down her dress and plastering on a smile. I could see the mentors had drilled it into her to be friendlier.

I took a deep breath as I stepped up next to her, holding tight to the metal chariot edge. The opening music began to fill the air, and the carriage jolted to a start.


End file.
